


The Prison and the Sanctuary

by JessicaPendragon



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaPendragon/pseuds/JessicaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything can change in an instant, but he will always be there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prison and the Sanctuary

“If you squint, Lake Calenhad is shaped like a bunny.”

Ellana glances up for the war table, squinting at Cullen instead. Across the expanse Josephine appears somewhat alarmed.

“Perhaps we should take a-”

“Oh, I think I see it!” Leliana interrupts as she leans over for a better look.

The advisors and Inquisitor fall silent before each erupts into fits of laughter. Morrigan is the only one to remain quiet, her nose pinched between painted fingers, but Ellana can see a ghost of a smile twitch on her lips. 

“We should take a break. Although I would say a good night’s rest is more in order,” Ellana says. Cullen rubs his temple, the strain of a headache raising a vein in his forehead. He catches her gaze and gives her a reassuring smile, but she is not completely fooled.

“Yes it seems as the light grows dim outside, so do the wits of the Inquisition,” Morrigan comments.

Josephine sighs as her fingers finally release her writing board. “I do believe a relaxing bath is in my very near future.”

“A relaxing bath in your copper tub that just had to be brought all the way from Antiva, of course,” Leliana says.

“If we are to be respected, we must be respectable,” the ambassador replies.

Cullen would never admit it in their presence, lest he give them fuel for more teasing, but a warm bath sounds more glorious than fifty siege towers and unlimited arrows. His eyes wander to Ellana’s smooth jaw, down the line of her neck. It would be even better with treasured company and he starts to move towards her, practicing the invitation in his mind.

“That reminds me! Before you go, Inquisitor, Empress Celene sent you a favor from the Winter Palace. I meant to say something before, but we’ve just been so busy.” Leliana pulls a mahogany box inlaid with gold lions from a messenger pack and sets it before Ellana, stalling Cullen’s feet. He wordlessly curses this delay.

“I wonder what it could be,” Josephine says. Ellana first unwraps a practical note written in elegant curls from the Empress that expresses the happiness of their partnership and hope for their shared future.

“Tis sure to be some extravagant, useless bauble from her vault,” remarks Morrigan, who seems to have one foot out the door already.

“It’s just big enough for a pair of shoes,” Leliana speculates. “Or a dozen more love letters for our commander.”

“Maker, can’t this wait until morning?”

Ellana shrugs, sending him a teasing look behind flashing lashes. “Impatient for something?”

“I…the lot of you will be the death of me, I swear it. Just open it then,” his voice is gruff, but there is mischief in his eyes. Ellana finds her exhaustion falling away in the face of more interesting possibilities than slumber.

Her three trustworthy advisors slide to her side of the table, all invested despite some grumbling. Morrigan stops her exit, head slightly cocking to the side. “Curious though, I cannot sense anything inside. Perhaps we shoul-”

Ellana is already lifting the lid and the spell hits her like a charging bull. It wraps around her chest and clamps down, squeezing the air from her lungs. Bright blue lights shoot up and form a cage around her as the force lifts her feet from the ground.

“Inquisitor!”  

She throws her head back to scream, but nothing comes out. Her mouth is caught in a grimace and her body shakes with the effort to combat this spell. She can’t catch her breath as magic and life drain away at alarming speed. Tears leak from the corners of her eyes and scorch her skin. There is so much pain, such pain like she’s never felt before.

“Ellana!” Cullen yells as he watches her suffer. He reaches out but the curse repels his efforts, electrifying his skin. The familiar threads of terror weave around him, digging deep within his veins. His heart is screeching, breath coming too quickly, as panic takes control. This cannot be happening.  

Morrigan thrusts her arms forward, hands glowing a dark purple. The phantom grip seems to tighten around Ellana even more and the witch grunts with effort. “I can try to sustain her, but this is a powerful spell.”

“I will get Solas!” Josephine says and races from the room even though they all know it will be too late. Leliana stands close, whispers of a prayer pouring from her lips with desperate fervor.  

“Templar, dispel the magic!”

“I can no longer do it.” He would drown himself in lyrium to save her if he could, but there is simply not enough left in his veins and none within reach. The prison constricts again and he hears something pop, watches as Ellana’s limbs spasm. A trickle of blood seeps from the corner of her mouth and a scream sunders his throat. “Maker, no. No!”

Her head falls forward and somehow she manages to find his wide eyes. She has been fighting the spell with as much power as she could muster, but there’s not enough left and her body is breaking. Ellana can’t hold on any longer.  

Through the agony laced in her gaze, Cullen sees acceptance creep into the corners and shakes his head fiercely. “No, don’t you dare.” Hot tears burn down into his throat, making his voice coarse. “I will not lose you to this. Please…please!”

Her eyes flutter closed and something inside Cullen shatters.

“There!” Morrigan yells as the spell blinks out of existence.  

The Commander catches her before she falls even an inch. He brings her to the floor, fingers desperately clutching. “Ella?”

A breath moves through her, shallow and choking on blood, but it keeps him from spiraling over the edge.

“She yet lives.” Morrigan’s skin is pale, a gloss of sweat like a curtain over her forehead.

Solas and Dorian are suddenly there, the elf already muttering incantations. There’s emerald light and liquid sloshing from crystal vials, but Cullen cannot let go. It takes the combined effort of the remaining advisors and Varric to pull him away.

Josephine tells him to breathe as she runs a hand up and down his arm, and he tries, but all he can see is blood, dead eyes and a blackness that swallows him whole.

* * *

Ellana’s eyes are clear when they open wide for the first time in days, but her mind is utterly clouded. She can remember snippets of voices and visions that may as well be dreams. She thinks back to her last wakeful moments. There was a box, and pain, and Cullen’s-

She gasps, quiet as something aches within when she pulls in breath. Her body feels like she’s been tossed down a river and hit every rock yet the memory of pain is a far worse thing. She can feel the hand wrap around her, feel her ribs pop and pierce her lung.

The Inquisitor lets out a shaky breath and turns to her side, trying to escape her thoughts, to find she is not alone. Cullen is there on the other half of the bed. He lays facing her, chest bare save for a bandage wrapping around his upper arm. It looks fresh and she wonders what happened, but is more amazed by the fact she hasn’t woken him up with her jostling.

Arms ache to reach out, to hold and be held, but she can’t bring herself to wake him from slumber. She’s never seen him sleep so peacefully before without nightmares shaking his muscles or showering his brow with cold sweat.

Another reason stops her from falling into his embrace and it’s staring at her from behind the spine of a book. Dorian snaps the tome closed and gives her a full smile. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Inquisitor.”

His voice is raucous as always and she grimaces, casting her attention back to Cullen. When he doesn’t even twitch she becomes suspicious. “What did you do to him?”

The Tevinter mage places a hand on his chest, mocking offense. “Who, me? I’m not the one he had to watch dying.”

Guilt and worry beat through her. “It was a Paralyzing Prison, wasn’t it? How long have I been gone?”

“Yes it was and you’ve been out for three days as very skilled mages tended to your injuries, and under very distressing circumstances might I add. In no small part because of that lunatic. Which leads me back to your initial question.” Dorian drops the book on the table and stands, his staff quietly clicking against the floor as he approaches.

“As you can imagine he was doing what he always does best, commanding. Commanding people to fortify our defenses, search every scrap of mail we’ve ever received. I think he questioned every one of Leliana’s spies. And don’t worry, he didn’t kill her. She’s been slowly doing that to herself. But our lovely Ferelden was also doing what he does horribly, and that’s going easy on himself. This is the first time he’s slept in earnest since you almost passed into the next world.”

“Oh, Cullen,” she says and reaches out to brush a touch against his chin. “So you what, put him under a sleeping spell?”

“Absolutely not. But I may have slipped a dose or two of Blood Lotus into his drink to help him along. It was for his own good, I swear it.”

“And decided to strip him too?” she teases.

“Only to make him more comfortable and to heal that burn he’s been avoiding. The Prison did a number on him too when he tried to get you out of there. Despite rumors, my intentions are more or less honorable.”

She smiles at him, grateful someone was watching out for her lover when she couldn’t. “Thank you, Dorian.”

“Yes well, don’t mention. Please, don’t. He’ll flay me alive if he ever finds out.” He walks to her side of the bed and touches her shoulder gently. “I’m glad you’re all right. Better not make a habit out of this.”

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”

“Right. Now, I’ll cast a rejuvenating spell to wake him up, but I plan to do it from as far away as possible, just in case. Good luck.”

Ellana waits as patiently as she can as Dorian’s feet echo off the stairs and further down the tower. When she thinks she hears the second door open and close, she feels magic shift against her skin. It tingles before it evaporates and Cullen takes a deep breath in response. 

“Cullen?” she whispers, voice caught on the tears trying to escape. It is ridiculous. She is fine, but the memories are still fresh wounds in her mind. She should be more concerned about his welfare.

His eyes open slowly. She watches pupils grow and shrink as he drifts back to the world. For a moment Cullen looks at her, but doesn’t see her. She tries to hide away the emotions swelling inside with a smirk and a quick quip. “Hello, Commander. Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed? Well, half naked anyways.” 

His full gaze strikes against her like lightning as he drags in a surprised gasp. “ _Ella,”_  he says, breathless and beautiful.

He’s there in an instant, grasping and covering her with his warmth. Fingers race through her hair, down her back, up her arms. For too long he watched her rest there and needs to remind himself, reassure himself, that she is real. Cullen doesn’t remember falling asleep and a part of him believes it to be a dream until he caresses her hair, the pointed tips of her ears, grounds himself against the taste of her skin. 

“Maker, I thought…” He sighs as he holds her face in his calloused hands and kisses her vallaslin, her wet eyelids, her mouth. Ellana makes a soft cry at the perfect touch and he pulls away. “I’m sorry, you’re hurt and I-”

“No I’m fine, it’s just…” She swallows away the heavier things she still can’t say and tries to bury her fears. The Inquisitor should be stronger than this. When she laughs, even she can hear the false note to it. “This is nothing. You should’ve seen me after fighting the Frostback. Did I ever-”

His thumb covers her lips, holding back her nervous words. He knows her well enough now to see how she’s hiding, pushing her own worries away to protect him. “It’s all right, I’m here.”

She breathes out a shuddering sigh at his soft words and touch and lets herself tumble into his embrace. Ellana rests in her crook of his neck, a place of endless refuge for the constant turmoil within, and lets her tears finally come. 

Cullen kisses the top of her head, thankful for every breath he feels against his collarbone. “I’m here,” he says again. He holds her, his arms a guard against the world, until the tears evaporate. It is a much longer time after that before she lets him go.


End file.
